Gods and Monsters
by Console
Summary: Richard Poole does not believe in voodoo. But it believes in him.


"Sir! It's very easy. Look, try to relate them to Greek mythology."

The impromptu lesson on voodoo loa was not going well.

Camille was trying to brief her DI on a cold case that Guadeloupe had just reopened and dropped in their collective laps.

The files were full of references to voodoo and when Richard, ploughing doggedly though the terminology, cursed the internet connection going down once too often, Camille and Dwayne had stepped in to give him a brief lesson.

"See, you can relate Erzulie to Aphrodite, Ayida to Iris, Agwe to Poseidon, Eshu to Hermes..."

"Oh, he's my favourite," Dwayne spread his hands at his DI's glower "What? He always has lollies, carries a big stick and tells it like it is."

"This is infantile."

Camille gritted her teeth and continued "And Ayezan to Hera, who is one of the most powerful, of course."

"But what does she do?!"

"For one thing, she punishes those who are rude to women!"

A hearty laugh made them look up. A tall, tanned, handsome, Viking of a man, with longish blond hair, stood grinning at them.

"Now that sounds like my Camille."

"_Brek_! What are you doing here?" Camille met him in the counter area. She and the visitor awkwardly shook hands, though it seemed to Richard that this 'Brek' character would have liked something a little more friendly.

Camille looked back at her colleagues "Dwayne, Fidel, Sir; this is Sven Brekken. An old friend of mine from Paris."

The blond laughed again.

Really that was quite grating, Richard thought, as Sven wrapped a long arm around Camille's shoulders.

"I've taken a house for the next six months.'' he smiled down at her and tightened his arm "Maybe longer..."

Richard didn't remember getting up and approaching the counter but he did notice that Fidel and Dwayne were both trying to catch Camille's eye. If they were feline, their fur would have been standing on end. "What is your business on the island?" If that sounded brusque he really didn't care. Seriously, _didn't_ care.

"Doing as little as possible. My sister is an invalid, I'm just here to get her some sun and look up old …friends."

"Brek is in I.T." Camille had managed to gracefully get out from under Sven's arm and was returning to her desk. "Give my love to Hedda, won't you?"

Brekken grinned; "wolfish" was the phrase that came to Richard's mind. "Tell her yourself. She wants you to come to dinner tonight."

"It's a little short notice."

"Hedda has made a huge effort. Please, she has been asking about you. Hedda is so excited about seeing you again."

"I have too much paperwork." Camille protested, which sounded half-heartedly pathetic, even to her ears.

"I'm sure your boss will let you knock off at a reasonable time. Hedda has been preparing for this all day."

Brekken really does have fangs like a wolf, thought Richard.

Camille squirmed embarrassed "Tell Hedda I'll be there."

"Great, call me and I'll pick you up at seven." Brekken leaned closer but Camille made it to the other side of the counter and he halted before it became awkward. He dropped his card on the counter and left.

There was a silence. Dwayne was almost vibrating with curiosity whereas Richard and Fidel made themselves ostentatiously busy.

Camille glanced at them and sighed, she wasn't going to get away without an explanation. "I met Brek when I was training…"

"He's a police officer?" Fidel was incredulous.

"No. And that's one of the reasons I broke it off. He had bought his way onto the courses because he thought it would be "cool" to do them. He is wealthy and, well, just is not that serious about anything. He is very charming but in the end I just couldn't take the fact he was not serious about the job."

"Well, serious is good." Richard gave one of his fleeting almost smiles.

"That and we argued. All the time. About everything. He got so annoying, I ended it." Camille rubbed her forehead as if from a remembered headache "Hedda is his sister, poor thing has seizures and they have to have a full-time nurse. Now, if your curiosity is satisfied…"

Richard looked up "I wasn't curious." he looked at Fidel "Were you?"

"No, sir. Couldn't care less."

Camille narrowed her eyes at Dwayne, who didn't know where to look "If my mother finds out about Brekken," she began ominously

Dwayne widened his eyes "Who?"

"Good."

* * *

Camille was already at her desk when Richard came in the next morning. She was dressed in a dazzling clash of color, bright, very tight yellow pants and a frothy top, with a bright scarf wound round her wrist like a bracelet.

Both junior officers were out, due to a complaint at the market and it was just the two of them and the ever present files.

If Richard pointedly didn't ask about her date it was soon lost in the intricacies of the paperwork backlog they had to process. They fell comfortably into discussing the files they were working through. At one point Richard got up to grab another ice water and took some files off Fidel's desk as he passed but juggling the slippery bottle and the files proved too much and he lost control, spilling them behind Camille's chair. Richard huffed in frustration, not that bothered about the mishap and knelt, sweeping the files together, as Camille swung round to help. She stretched her hand out, snagging some files but some slid and pushed the scarf up her arm, reveling dark bruises against the caramel toned skin. Richard grabbed her hand, staring in shock, then raised his eyes to hers and what she saw in those green depths made her catch her breath. She heard his voice tremble with rage "Brekken hurt you?"

"He…he tried to stop me leaving… I broke his nose."

Richard looked down, he hadn't let go of her hand and was breathing heavily.

"Sir! _Richard_!" He looked up at that.

"I'm fine. He was never physically rough with me before. And will never get the chance again."

"I could have him for assaulting a police officer…"

"It's over, sir. I took care of it. I shouldn't be surprised if he moves on. And there is Hedda to think of. Let it go. Please?"

Richard got to his feet, reluctantly surrendering his grip on her hand.

"You know my feelings on the matter," he said brusquely "If you want it taken no further, against my better judgment…"

"Chief!" Fidel came running in, as agitated as they had ever seen him, he looked at Camille. "I'm so sorry, Camille, it's your friend, Brekken..."

* * *

Sven Brekken had been found by his sister, crumpled at the bottom of the main steps. He indeed had a broken nose, as the blacking of the delicate tissue round the eyes attested. His forehead was dented where he had fallen but there were no other marks on his body that suggested he had tried to break his fall.

The nurse had called the police. Hedda had had hysterics and had to be lightly sedated. As soon as Fidel had set his kit up Camille held out her hands for elimination fingerprinting. Fidel looked mortified but he steeled himself. Camille then stood to go. Richard almost protested but stopped himself; of course she couldn't do the interview. He nodded to her as she left. Fidel was busy with the kit and Hedda seemed to have stopped crying quite so much. He introduced himself and began "Can you tell me what happened last night?"

"Camille came for dinner. Sven showed her all over the house, then we ate. My nurse put me to bed not long after but I couldn't sleep. It was so hot and they were arguing."

"Oh, really? Arguing, how unusual."

Hedda shrugged "They always argued. I told Sven it was no good asking Camille to stay."

"A brother doesn't usually take any notice of a sister's advice on a date."

Hedda started to nod sleepily, the drugs were taking effect. "Not for the night, silly. To Stay. But she wouldn't, they shouted some more then I heard Sven cry out. He called her something I didn't hear; he wanted to know if there was someone else."

"What did she say?" Richard didn't look up from where he was writing in his notebook

"I couldn't hear, just more yelling; then I heard a taxi honk. She must have left then."

The taxi driver had confirmed when Camille had left. Though he couldn't confirm anyone else on the steps. The young nurse had had little to add to Hedda's statement. She had only been with the family for a few days. Her room was at the back of the house and since Hedda had not used the intercom system, set up because of her illness, she had been undisturbed.

Richard searched through all the rooms. In the nurse's room he found several bottles of medicine. The writing was in Spanish and he carefully copied down the words into his notebook. Hedda's room was full of books, magazines and a large TV; she obviously spent a lot of time there. Richard glanced at the titles, noting they were serious reading; weighty texts on medicine, alternative folk-medicine and lore.

Next he prowled around the gleaming, very modern kitchen. He got Fidel to bag the remains of the dinner's fish platter for testing and stood contemplating. A dark spot next to a covered rubbish bin caught his eye; out of place in such a clean kitchen. He bent and picked it up in his gloved hand. It was a silver coin, quite black on one side.

* * *

Dwayne hitched a hip onto his desk and leaned on his baton as he studied his DI. Absently he unwrapped a lollipop, crunching it off its stick. There was something off about the Chief, unfocused. Richard was pacing in front of the whiteboard but barely giving it a glance. Going on gut feeling, which had always served him well, Dwayne felt compelled to speak up.

"Need some ideas, Chief? You usually have a theory by now."

Richard flashed a guilty glance his way. "You're right."

"Chief, we are all upset about what happened to Camille."

"Upset! Yes, you could say that. I have to pull myself together." Richard touched his fist to his lips, visibly trying to center himself. "When Brekken hurt….when I saw the bruises. Dear god, I'm not a violent man…but in that moment…"

"You wanted to kill him." Dwayne absently tapped his baton on the table, "No one here could blame you."

"But I catch people who do that! That's what makes me, **me**!"

"No," Dwayne spoke sharply and made a chopping motion with his hand. "You catch murderers who, without exception, are killing for their own selfish reasons. To feel rage because your friend has been hurt? You are human. That is OK, Chief, more than OK. You can have feelings about…" Dwayne reconsidered his next words "all of us. We care for you, you care for us, that's the way it works, Chief."

Richard turned away; a short nod was all the response he felt able to give.

Dwayne wisely left him alone; he could only hope the advice had got through that stubborn English phlegm.

* * *

"Maman! Mambo Ester is not responsible for my safety. I can take care of myself."

"Physically, yes but you know she can influence fate to help you. She is your godmother after all, why shouldn't she call on the spirits to protect you?"

Camille sighed "Spirits did not kill Brek. I don't know what did but Richard will find out."

Camille had forestalled her mother hearing about the case through gossip and confessed everything. Now she was regretting being quite so open, as Catherine was marshalling all her considerable networking skills to help her daughter, including calling on the voodoo hougans and mambos, as well as a few prayers through Father John.

"We will get through this, child. When I sent a message to Mambo Ester, she told me the loa were already agitated. She said Ayezan had already acted; so you need to give thanks to her and take this."

Camille looked with distaste at the small wash leather bag Catherine held out. "What is in that?"

"Relax, Camille, you know Mambo Ester is a founder member of the RSPCA chapter on the island."

"Doesn't mean there won't be something disgusting. Which loa does she wish to encourage anyway?"

"Xango, for justice. So it's probably…" Catherine gave the bag a cautious sniff "…dried apples." She sounded relieved. "And carry this too." Catherine handed Camille a red and blue silk handkerchief.

"Oh, Maman, not Erzulie again. I thought we agreed; only once a year."

"Hush, child, you need all the help you can get," Catherine admonished her with a small cryptic smile. "And Mambo Ester particularly said…"

"Years ago she said "my soul mate's first meeting would be full of lies"?! Doesn't say much for my character or presumably his! She doesn't know what she is saying more than half the time," Camille's voice gentled "I know she is your friend but she is very old and not 'all there' anymore."

Catherine threw up her hands "So that hasn't happened …yet. Have a little faith, child."

Camille kissed her mother's cheek and dropped the handkerchief on the table "I have to go; I still have paperwork."

* * *

Camille wasn't sure Richard had noticed when she came into the station, so intent was he on the whiteboard, rearranging the photos and papers and muttering to himself. Camille smiled and sat at her desk, sneaking peeks as Richard continued to ponder. But of course he missed nothing. "There is tea in the pot. I can't vouch for its taste by now, but you'll only want to add ice for your disgusting iced tea," he stopped talking, wide-eyed, then ran to the bookcase and pulled out the medical dictionary, feverishly flicking the pages.

Camille felt a frisson of excitement; his eyes had that sparkle that he only got when a case was breaking. She looked forward to seeing it and once again wondered if anything else could animate him like that.

"How was Brekken dressed at dinner?"

Camille blinked "Um, sports shirt, cargo pants…."

"And on the steps when you…last saw him?"

"The same, oh, he had pulled on a coat."

"Yes, that's in the photos but it was hot. Dwayne, what was the temperature, last night?

"Exceptionally hot, Chief."

"Don't I know it. Spent half the night outside. Hedda said it was too hot to sleep. And the doctor said the autopsy showed Brekken had burnt his mouth."

Camille shook her head, "I'd say that was our dinner coffee but I know his was cold, he complained and got another."

"What if he only thought it was cold?"

"What are you saying?"

"You had fish for dinner."

"Several different kinds."

"He had shark and ate it guts and all."

"It's a Viking thing. Wait, how could you possibly know that?"

Richard kept a finger on an entry in the medical book as he showed her.

"Ciguatera, a fish toxin. I knew fish was bad for you. Do you know how many fatal toxins are in fish? I looked it up once. This particular one is concentrated in the head and guts. Makes you think cold is hot and vice versa. It also causes quite enough dizziness and eyesight problems to tumble him down the steps. So no defensive bruising. He was poisoned."

"But it says here the tox screens were negative."

"It is untraceable in humans but I found this." Richard flourished the blackened coin. "It says here that in folklore, a test for Ciguatera is if a silver coin goes black when placed on the fish. It did. This means someone deliberately served him the fish, knowing it was the kind of fish that gets contaminated and that it was indeed contaminated."

"But why would Hedda try to kill her brother? He was her caregiver."

"Well, at least he paid the bills. And those bills were weighty indeed and likely to get worse if he had to put Hedda into care later on. I have been doing a translation of the writing on these pill bottles I found in the nurse's room. The medication is a Mexican knock-off of a schizophrenia treatment."

"Hedda is schizophrenic?"

"Badly, if she is on clozapine".

"I should have seen that."

"Did you have a lot of day to day contact with Hedda?"

"I guess not, not really."

"See. Never doubt yourself, Camille. I don't." Richard walked back to his desk then frowned and held out a handkerchief to Camille, "Did you drop this?"

Camille blinked in surprise as she was handed the red and blue silk. Richard grabbed an apple from his desk and meditatively tossed it in the air as he re-examined the white board. "Clozapine is a pretty dangerous drug to be buying as an un-regulated Mexican knock-off. Side-effects like weight-gain, diabetes, heart problems.

"Should we start calling you Doctor Poole, Sir?" Fidel sounded impressed

Richard grimaced, "I studied a case where a wife had switched her husband's medication, to a cheaper Mexican drug. Killed him."

Fidel came to stand by the whiteboard, very straight in his new sergeants stripes. Richard handed him the drug information printout he had been holding. "It doesn't make any sense," he ventured "by all accounts he was looking after his sister. She had no motive unless she was off her medication and the nurse would know then."

"Her lawyers will point to the other person to have a motive." Camille murmured

Richard swung round to catch Camille's eye. His gaze was very direct, "You may break someone's nose but a slow acting poison? Not your style. I know that." He looked away before their eye contact got uncomfortable. "Besides if that coin doesn't test positive for Hedda's fingerprint, I'll eat a fish platter, with eyes."

Camille nodded sadly "Poor Hedda, she has no one now."

"Why do you think he came here, to Saint Marie?"

Camille blushed and looked away. "I wasn't completely forthcoming in my statement, Sir. Brek asked me to move in with him."

"I know," said Richard absently

'You do?" Camille gaped at him in surprise

"Hedda told me."

"Oh. Well, he really wanted help with her. Apparently her seizures are becoming worse."

Fidel studied the handout, "Clozapine side-effects include seizures."

"He honestly thought his money would tempt me."

"Man was a fool."

"Don't speak ill of the dead, Dwayne" chided Camille gently

"Why not? We investigate murders; most times speaking ill of the dead is exactly what we do. And Brekken was a nasty piece of work."

Richard had suddenly stiffened while they had been talking and was muttering "Slow acting poison…slow acting poison, that's it! Yes! A preemptive strike! The medical books in Hedda's room! This has to be one of the nastiest cases we've had so far. Fidel, prepare to book Hedda on a charge of murder. I think a jury will listen to a plea of 'while the balance of her mind was disturbed.' I believe she thought she was acting to save her own life. The money was running out, Brekkan was hastening his sister's death by using dangerous drugs with fatal side effects, for her schizophrenia. They come to the island. I'm sorry, Camille, maybe he was going to use you to vouch that he had done everything he could for his sister, when she died of supposedly natural causes due to her condition. He was upping her dose, that accounts for the worsening seizures and it would not be hard to do with an inexperienced nurse. So before it kills her, she researches a way to kill him and make it look like an accident!"

His apple core landed with a thunk in the bin.

* * *

It had become a bit of an unspoken tradition that at the successful end of a case, the team would end up at Catherine's bar.

Richard was happily pouring his third tea and Dwayne had just started an unlikely and rambling story when Camille managed to pull her mother aside. "Where is that handkerchief you tried to give me today?"

Catherine fished in the pockets of her dress, "That's odd, I picked it up."

"You didn't sneak it into the police station?"

Catherine looked blank "Why would I? Ah! Here it is." She flourished it triumphantly.

Camille thrust her hand into her pocket and frowned. Her pocket was empty.

"Now, I know I put the handkerchief he gave me, in here..,"

Catherine's fine eyebrows rose "He, who…?"

Camille shrugged "There will be some explanation."

Catherine started "The spirits…"

"Were not involved, in either that or the murder, it was a tragic sibling clash."

Catherine shrugged "Think what you like, child. Oh, before I forget, Mambo Ester wanted me to give you this." She passed Camille a folded note.

Camille unfolded it carefully, noting it was very white, very old handmade paper with a fine gold edge. It simply read "You're welcome."


End file.
